Last night the electrician came back and wired up all our various new expensive toys to the panel, which means that 1/2 the lights, our dishwasher, and our stove all work now. This whole process has been a learning experience, like going to a spanish-speaking samba class on crutches: There are complicated dance steps involved, but they don’t tell you what order things go in unless you ask exactly the right questions. Knowing what these questions are is key, like asking the installation guys where they needed outlets, and then transferring that knowledge to the electricians so that you don’t wind up with four rectangular holes in the wall that need to be patched after the cabinets are installed.

The installers have been here twice and will need to return again (for the counter installation); the electricians three times (and need to come back once more for final fit-out) and the plumbers twice (and they’re coming back for the sink and disposal installation.) It’s getting so that we’re just going to give everybody a key and keep a twelve-pack of beer in the fridge so they can come and go when they need to.

All this has left us with a pretty sweet kitchen, so far. Last night I flipped one of the two new switches on the wall and 3/4 of the under-cabinet lighting came on, and it looked GREAT. This morning we read the phone-book sized manual for the dishwasher and figured out how to turn it on, and it burbled and hummed quietly, and Jen ovulated at the thought of not having to face another sinkload of dishes to wash by hand. The stove lights with a fast tick-tick-WHOOSH, and it heats the shit out of a pot of hot water.

I’d have to say, we’ve been blessed with some of the nicest contractors in the universe. Our electrician I’ve written about before. The plumbers are a pair of old-school Bawlmer fellas, and speak through syrup-thick Dundalk accents, but damn if they didn’t have the gas line wrangled in about fifteen minutes. These are the guys who would be at home in the engine room of a nuclear aircraft carrier, keeping it floating with a pipe wrench and some chewing gum. The cabinet install guys showed up at 8:30 in the morning, unloaded two vans full of wood, assembled the entire kitchen and hung it expertly on some of the most out-of-square walls in this state, put in the lighting, dishwasher (and its plumbing), and fridge, all without marking up the floor or burning the house down. And they were nice guys. I’d recommend them to anybody, really—I’ve worked with gruff contractors, ex-felons (that was an interesting summer), guys that treated me the customer like a moron, guys that overcharged, guys that never showed up, guys that never finished, and guys that wanted full payment up front. Everybody I’ve worked with on this project has spoiled me for any future contracting, and I suppose that’s alright with me, just as long as we can have a machine wash our dishes and bake a cake that’s not burned on one side.

It’s kind of nice to sit in my house, have plenty of billable work to complete, play a little Cure For Pain-era Morphine, and sip on a hot chocolate I just heated on our new gas stove.

Jen and I set up an order for three lights on Rejuvenation Lighting yesterday. We ordered this Trenton light for the middle of the kitchen, and two of these Pembrook fixtures for the hallway.

The kitchen light will hang between 12″ and 24″ off the cieling, based on what we put in the center of the room, and how we like the light it throws. And hopefully the shades on the Pembrook fixtures will have some of that honey/amber color in them when they come out of the box, because we really like that vibe for the hallway.

My sister had a bunch of work done on her house a couple of weeks ago, and one of the things she did was to have the weights to her old sash windows cut, something called “sash springs” installed, and the cavities filled with blown insulation. Having just filled our kitchen window cavities with foam and insulation, I can testify to the results of this operation, and also guess that I’m losing hundreds of dollars in heating bills through our windows.

“The window things are called sash springs; they’re essentially thin pieces of sheet metal bent at about a 45-degree or so angle; the two ends have screw holes and get mounted to the sash slot, and the angle hits the window sash. The friction/pressure is what keeps the window up. The thing I’ve found is that it makes the windows kinda hard to operate–I have to gunk them up with silicone spray when I do the storms this winter.”

This might be them: They’re advertised as spring holders, and they list for $1.99 each.

I did some research on the subject and found this article, which talks about spring balances, which I gather are something different from my sister’s solution.

I found this link to the primary manufacturer of the spring balances, Pullman, and it appears I can order them direct from the factory for $23. I think I’m going to order a pair after weighing one of my sashes and see how it works.

Here’s the kitchen as of this morning. The guy who measures the cabinets for the granite will be here in a half-hour, and it’ll take a week and a half for them to cut it and come back out to install. In the meantime, the plumber will be here tomorrow to put the gas line, disposall, and range in, as well as widen the drain pipes from 1.5″ to 2″.

Meanwhile, we picked up a faucet from the Lowe’s (the selection there, while large, was underwhelming) and the aforementioned disposal last night—nothing like the last minute, eh?

Finally, we have to return to IKEA this weekend to pick up 20+ drawer pulls (we’re going with the TAG model, which is sort of an elegant stainless swoop.)

I’m feeling like one for realizing that it’s 3PM, the kitchen installers have been working since 9, and haven’t had lunch. The lead installer threw me a hint at about 2 when, admittedly, I was on the phone and otherwise occupied, by asking where we ordered out for food around here. I didn’t catch it. I usually pride myself on being a nice guy-the guy who picks up a pizza for the workmen who stay late (we did this last week for our electricians), but this time I dropped the ball. I went down at 3 and offered, but the lead told me he had food coming.

I’m trying to do some freelance work, but it’s bugging me.

Oh, yeah, they’re doing a really nice job down there too.

Here’s the first coat of poly on the floor. It’s now got three, but this is the first. Tomorrow at 7:30, the cabinets arrive, and they get installed. w00t!

The Cauzzis graciously offered to make us some dinner last night after I called up and invited us over to their house. (Miss H. took pity on us months ago when she heard we would be without a stove for a week, and offered to feed us. How could we turn that down?) We stopped to pick up some supplies and made our way to their house 45 minutes late, which throws the baby feeding/sleeping/eating schedule off—and consequently the adult feeding/sleeping/eating schedule, which is already more of a loose guideline without my fucking it up. There are many times when I am oblivious to outside stimuli—it usually involves power tools and a home project, and this was one of them. I’ll post a picture here of the main cause of my lateness, and apologize once again in public: I’m sorry.

Notice the floor in the pantry in the upper left-yesterday morning it still sported a layer of linoleum and luuan, until I got to the edge of the doorway and had to pull the threshold up. After a brief consult with my wife, I yanked the rest of it out and sanded the pine planks down in there as well. The rest of the room has been edged, and with the exception of some minor buffing to be done, is ready for a coat of polyurethane. All this was accomplished for a total of $144.52, which is $555.48 less than the price we were quoted a few months ago. Knowing this, I’m happy we bought the more expensive range, because it just got paid for.

Meanwhile, in the Cash Flying Out Of Our Pocket department, five men appeared in our driveway this morning at 8AM to trim back the trees that have been threatening to topple into expensive houses in our neighborhood. The silver maple that adjoins our property and hangs over the garage got topped off (more like a Marine buzz cut on the first day of boot camp) and the dead Dutch Elm that’s been drooping in the backyard is getting cut to the stump. There’s been some controversy over property lines and responsibility for this particular tree, and we finally got tired of waiting for the neighbors to do something about it before it fell into their house. Surveying seems to be a sort of hit-or-miss science given the age and shifting landscape—Jen and I measured out the back property line this summer, and as far as we can tell, the tree is five feet on their side of the line. Either way, I’m just glad we did something before Hurricane Keighleigh or Brandi or Sholene came and flattened their garage.

The downside to all this: I have to cut the initial check and get reimbursed by my neighbor. The upside: They’re stacking the Elm, in firewood-sized logs, in OUR yard. Burn that, bitches.

If you’re in the market for a floor sander, I highly recommend the model shown (Silver-Line). It uses velcro sanding pads, so you don’t have to deal with round drums and screws and other crap like that.

Tomorrow I go back for the edger and clean up all the places where cabinets won’t be.